


Go Find A Bear

by Currawong



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen, Strong language same as show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 16:08:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12172263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Currawong/pseuds/Currawong
Summary: Tormund finally gets the message.





	Go Find A Bear

“Ah, there is my favourite woman!” Gritting her teeth, Brienne took a deep breath and walked on. The wildling and his leering irritated and disgusted her in turns.

“Why do you not look at me? I have been thinking of you here, waiting for me.”

Moving her hand to Oathkeeper’s hilt, she kept walking, but Tormund seized her arm and spun her around.

“GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!” Furious, she twisted free. “I TOLD YOU BEFORE - LEAVE ME ALONE!”

“I love a strong woman! You are wonderful! We could have such great babies together!” His eyes were bright and eager above the ginger beard.

So she kicked him. Will all her strength. In the balls. 

He grunted in pain, doubling over, and she seized him by the hair, forcing him backwards and kneeing him in the ribs so that he staggered, tripped, and sprawled on the ground. 

“DO. NOT. TOUCH. ME.” She kicked him hard again in time with the words, then stood back and drew Oathkeeper, pointing it at his groin.

He peered up at her, a mixture of bewilderment and pain. “But that is the way of all women – they like a strong man. A big man, like me.” He tried to smile. 

“Lady Brienne is not ‘all women’.” She hadn’t seen him arrive, but suddenly there were two more swords, both pointing at Tormund’s throat. Valerian steel - Jaime. And the scuffed boots near Tormund’s head told her that the other was Pod. Though her eyes never wavered from Tormund’s face, she sensed a growing ring of spectators. 

“Go and find another woman to fuck. Or a bear. And don’t move.” She kicked his legs apart, and used her sword to part his tunic. Ser Goodwin had taught her sword fighting, but he had also taught her a few things about men.

“What …” He tried to get up.

“I said: Don’t move.” Slash. The ties on his tunic parted, and two more cuts dealt with the laces on his trousers. With only the barest hint of a glance at Jaime, Brienne bent down and pulled the wildling’s trousers partway down his legs. It lay there exposed to the cold winter air – a limp and ugly red cock, in a dark ugly mess of hair. And he stank. 

Brienne suppressed a shudder as she carefully moved the tip of her sword to rest at the base of his cock. She spoke slowly and clearly, pitching her voice so it could be heard by those watching. 

“I do not like you. I am not interested in you. And I would not want your babies if you were the last man in the whole world.” She gave a little nick, and for the first time she saw a flash of fear in his eyes. “Do. You. Understand?”

The silence was deafening, so she drew the sword point along his cock, a faint red line following its track. 

“Perhaps you should take one of his balls now. The dogs here look quite hungry.” Jaime’s voice was conversational, his sword still resting on Tormund’s throat. 

“Do. You. Understand?” Oathkeeper’s tip moved sideways and jabbed slightly, and she had the satisfaction of seeing Tormund flinch.

“Yes.” 

“Yes, _Lady_ Brienne.” She sensed Pod’s surprise and Jaime’s amusement at her own use of the title, but it was about time that this lecherous idiot realised she was not just any woman. 

“Yes." A pause. "Lady Brienne”. 

“Good. And if you ever come near me again, you will be a blind, handless gelding by the time I have finished with you.” 

Nodding at Jaime and Pod to lower their swords, she stepped back and watched as Tormund scrambled painfully to his feet, pulling up his trousers and gathering his tunic together. For the first time she allowed herself to look at the watching throng. No Sansa or Jon, but she spied a grinning Arya standing near a stack of barrels. 

“Go.” She sheathed Oathkeeper as Tormund shuffled off, then turned away towards the stables. Jaime and Pod fell in to either side of her.

Across the courtyard, she could hear the Hound offering unsympathetic advice to Tormund. “Stupid bloody bugger. Told yer about Brienne of fucking Tarth. Nearly fucking killed me, she did. She says she don’t like you, you find someone else. Or a bear.” 

 

______________


End file.
